Motorcycle Grease and Movie Premieres
by C. S. Hazel
Summary: When Bella moves to California, she meets a rich CEO's son who fixes vehicles for free and a disguised celebrity who is hiding out of the public eye at her school.


The first time I saw Jacob Black, he was covered in motorcycle grease.

You'd think the rich son of the CEO of a major car company would be dressed better, or at least _clean._

I had just arrived at Lakeforks High, my new high school in California. No one was looking at me, probably because I blended in with the wallpaper. I bit my lip, studying the schedule that I had been assigned. I was so awful with directions.

Someone—Jacob, I later knew—crashed into me, knocking me over. "So sorry! Didn't see you there." He paused, and stared at me. "Uh, what's your name?" He offered me a muddy hand.

"Isabelle. Isabelle Swan. But please, call me Bella," I replied, getting up and picking up my things.

"Jacob Black, but call me Jacob," he said, running his fingers through his inky dark hair.

I raised my eyebrows. "Okay, Jacob. So, ah, do you know where classroom 209 is?"

He grinned, and hiked his bag up his shoulder. "Oh, you have Spanish? Here, I'll walk you there."

"Oh, that's not necessary…"

"It's okay, I'm going in the same direction anyways."

By now, several girls were staring at me enviously. I suppose walking to class with a guy covered in dirt automatically made you the object of jealousy. Right.

"Fine, then," I sighed, trying to ignore the death glares aimed at me.

Jacob told me that his father was the CEO of a large automobile corporation, but while Jacob liked cars, he didn't feel any need to charge customers. He fixed bikes, cars, pretty much anything with a motor for free for fun when he had spare time. That explained the motorcycle grease and dirt.

He asked me why I had moved to California from Florida. I explained I wanted to spend more time with my father. He was silent after that, apparently pondering something.

Spanish slid by without much ado. I was never good at languages, and had a feeling I would be mediocre in this class, but luckily I had studied most of the material we were going through last year.

Biology. The teacher sat me next to a student with pale skin and topaz eyes, who immediately pinched his nose when he saw me. I frowned. I knew I must've smelled a little, seeing how I'd spent time with Jacob, but he didn't have to be rude about it.

Physical education would probably be a class I failed—we were playing volleyball, and while I was definitely clumsy, I could swear some of the girls on the other team were deliberately spiking the ball at my face.

At lunch, I stood with my lunch tray, feeling lost. I didn't see Jacob anywhere, and the idea of sitting with any of the girls was a joke—they seemed to all hate me for some reason.

"Hey!"

I looked back. A boy from my volleyball team in physical education stood behind me. "Hi," I said, smiling.

"New girl, right? Bella? Do you want to come sit with my crew? I'm Mike, by the way." He ran his fingers through his sandy hair. Why do boys always do that?

"Sure." I followed him through the maze of round white tables with matching metallic chairs to a table tucked in the back. Several other kids were already sitting there, chatting about a television show. They looked up when we arrived.

"Hey! Look, it's the new girl!" a boy said, waving with three fingers. He had black hair and almond-shaped eyes, like he had Asian roots.

"Oh, shut up, Eric," the black-haired girl next to him laughed. "I'm sorry. But you're all everyone can talk about! I suppose some are just starved for gossip, and it's been so long since any new juice has come through the grapevine."

I nodded, uncomfortable. "I'm Isabelle Swan, but please call me Bella."

"Hey, have I seen you before?" Another girl sat down at the table. She had brown hair, streaked with lemon-colored highlights, and gray eyes. "I'm Jessica, BTW."

"BTW…?" I frowned, trying to decipher it.

"By the way. Jess likes to use anagrams," Mike said, laughing.

"I'm pretty sure they're acronyms, not anagrams," Eric spoke up.

"Were you in that shampoo commercial?" Jessica asked, frowning.

"No," I said, shrugging.

"Have you done _any _commercials? TS? Movies? PM?" Jessica emphasized.

"Television shows and print modeling," Angela translated.

"No," I repeated. People always thought they'd seen me before, probably because I was so plain-looking.

"So you haven't done anything like that. _I've _been in a nationwide-commercial before," she said, tossing her hair back.

"Of course, the great moment in the clothing store commercial where they showed half your elbow," Eric groaned. Jessica swatted him with her notebook.

I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped. The boy with the topaz eyes (how do you get that color, anyways? Colored contacts? Apple juice?) and albino skin was glowering at me again.

"Who's that?" I pointed.

Angela looked back. "Oh, Alice Cullen, Jasper Cullen, Rosalie Cullen…"

"No, the guy with the topaz eyes and pale skin who looks like he just drank a barrel of hot sauce."

Jessica stared at me. "They _all _look like that!"

"Uh…the guy sitting between the blonde girl and the girl with the short hair," I clarified.

"Oh, that's Edward," Jessica giggled. She stopped laughing when Mike gave her a look. "Edward Cullen. He was in the movie _Scissors. _He almost took me to his movie premiere."

"_Almost?_" Eric asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, but I never got the chance to ask him to take me," she said, picking at her French-manicured nails. "I mean, TOA the celebs I _almost _got to see!"

"Think of all," Mike translated, rolling his eyes.

"Anyways, Bella, WDYWTK?"

We all frowned. Even Angela had trouble figuring it out.

"For gosh sake! Why do you want to know!" Jessica took out a tube of shimmery pink lip gloss.

"Oh, well, I have Biology with him, and well, he keeps on glaring at me and pinching his nose," I said, shrugging.

"Well, it's true, anyone who spends time with Jacob Black reeks afterwards," Angela said thoughtfully. "But it's totally worth it!" Mike snorted into his cheeseburger. Eric sighed and drummed his fingers on the table.

"Maybe he's afraid you'll steal all the movie roles," Jessica suggested. "I don't know why he would think that though. You would _obviously _be auditioning for different roles."

"I'm not interested in auditioning for anything or going to premieres or seeing celebrities," I said.

"What?" Her mouth dropped open. "But everyone here does! I mean, even old conservative Angela was an extra in the show _Young Assassination_!"

"That was only because you dragged me with you," Angela chimed in.

The lunch bell rang just then, which was good because all the talk about Hollywood was making me nauseous. I looked over my shoulder, and _he _was still glaring at me.

Ah. I suppose universal popularity is impossible.


End file.
